


Just Another Doctor

by fid_gin



Series: The Loved 'verse [19]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fid_gin/pseuds/fid_gin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Torchwood meets the <i>Loved</i> 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date: 12/14/2008
> 
> A huge debt of gratitude is owed to unfolded73, who beta'd this for me years ago, and encouraged me to finish it even when I wanted to give up.

Deep below the streets of Cardiff, the Doctor crossed the blue arms of his suit jacket in front of him and leaned back against a railing, craning his neck up slightly to behold a wheeling, screeching pterodactyl. 

Torchwood Three, located directly under what was commonly known to the rest of the world as Roald Dahl Plass. He'd been here, _above_ ground, briefly to fuel up with Martha and then many years before with Rose and Jack and Mickey. Now the Doctor watched those same three people before him, changed so much by the time and adventures they'd shared with him, hugging and laughing and talking and looking more-or-less exactly the same as they had on that sunny day in Cardiff so long ago.

Only he had changed. 

First his body and his face thanks to the process of regeneration, then his entire genetic make-up with a little help from a temp named Donna Noble and a Dalek fleet re-invented by their insane and impossibly-alive creator. But standing here, now, the Doctor realized he had never felt more like back when he was that big-eared, blue-eyed man in the leather jacket than he did at this moment, watching over his one current and two former companions. The illusion was only broken when he himself, dressed in brown instead of blue, stepped forward to join them, throwing one arm over Mickey's shoulder in a familiar gesture and brushing a kiss across Rose's cheek. It was an action that, coming from anyone else, would have made him seethe with jealousy. Coming from himself, welll...it was tolerable, he thought with a small smile.

********

Their arrival went surprisingly smoothly, the Doctor in blue thought. No alien invasions, no missing years, and only one salute.

The entrance of the Torchwood hub rolled back amidst flashing lights and warning klaxons, and a small crowd of gawking, familiar faces peered from the other side of it.

“Hey, boss!” Mickey chirped finally, running forward, screeching to a halt as the other Doctor stepped out from behind the first one, his hand brushing his double's shoulder as he passed. “Boss?” he asked, looking from one to the other. “Oh my god! It's him, isn't it? It's the other one!”

“Mickey!” the other Doctor shouted joyfully, stepping up and punching his knuckles against the hand which he'd raised to greet the first Doctor in brown. 

Jack walked forward. “Doctors,” he said, addressing both of them and snapping off said salute. Coming from Jack it was bearable, and the Doctor wondered why it should be, that he was willing to forgive Jack so much that he abhorred in others. Guilt? “Saw you materialize in the monitors. Though, I admit,” he added, lowering his hand and letting his eyes rove over the three of them. “There's at least one more in your party than we were expecting.” The Doctor began to sputter at that, as Jack nodded at Rose, a flirty smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ma'am.”

“Oh don't 'ma'am' me, c'mere!” She ran, laughing, over to Jack as he swept her up into a large hug, twirling her around before setting her feet back on the ground. “You look amazing!”

“It's only been three months,” Jack said, feigning insult. “Why, how long's it been for you?”

“I...I'm not sure,” she said, smiling bashfully back at the two Doctors. "A long time."

“Well, that's different, then,” Mickey said. “Used to be the other way around. Good to know he's still a rubbish driver, though.”

“Mr. Mickey!” the Doctor in brown said, ducking around his double to embrace the young man in a hug, much to Mickey's apparent surprise at this display of affection. “How's Torchwood treating you?”

“He's completely useless,” Jack said, winking at Rose to show he was kidding.

“Don't listen to him, you're brilliant!” Gwen spoke, stepping forward finally and putting a hand on Mickey's shoulder. “He captured his first Weevil last week.” Mickey smiled and shrugged, obviously enjoying the praise.

She offered her hand. “Gwen Cooper,” she said in a strong Welsh accent. Something about her looked strikingly familiar, and the Doctor realized this must have been the woman Rose and his other self had spoken to that day in the TARDIS. The one whom they recognized from 1869.

“Pleasure to meet you, Gwen Cooper.”

“We've met...” she started.

“Ah no, that was...that wasn't me.” the Doctor said. Somehow, his mouth kept moving. “She was very brave, your ancestor. Gwyneth, her name was, Gwyneth. Closed the rift opened by the Gelth who were using it to get through and inhabit human corpses...this is probably all old news to you, isn't it?” Gwen shook her head, her mouth opened slightly. “Well then, that's brilliant! Here you are, working on the rift that was sealed by your...fore-sister? fore-mother? never exactly sure how that goes...”

Jack cut him off before he could get into a really good ramble. “Ianto and Martha are out on a recovery mission at the moment, you'll all get to say hello to them later.”

“And...what are they recovering?” the Doctor in brown asked.

“Dinner,” Gwen and Mickey said simultaneously.

********

“You're awfully quiet,” Jack said, sidling up next to him where he stood now with his arms crossed, watching Rose and Mickey having a good laugh over something and the Doctor pointing excitedly at a screen, talking a mile-a-minute by the look of it while Gwen looked on, amused. “Is that because of the...” Jack gestured toward the Doctor in brown and then back at him.

“Metacrisis, and are you kidding? I'm part Donna if you remember.” The Doctor's voice trailed off a bit at the end of his sentence as his mind wandered back to the events of that day, and the later realization, back aboard the TARDIS, that she was gone.

Jack seemed to allow him his moment of nostalgia. “We know about her, you know,” he finally interjected. The Doctor's eyebrows shot up.

“How can you know about that?”

“We're Torchwood, Doctor. When there's a human woman wandering around Chiswick with a suppressed Time Lord consciousness in her brain that could go off like a bomb with the slightest memory twinge, we make it a point to keep tabs on her.”

The Doctor gave a sad little smirk. “Quite right.” He stole a quick glance over toward where Mickey and Gwen seemed to be discussing something conspiratorially, looking in his direction every couple of sentences. “Jack?” he said, his voice hushed. “ _Everyone is staring at me_.”

Jack chuckled. “Good manners probably aren't our strong point. They're just surprised to see you.”

“Why? I mean, if you lot knew about Donna, what did you think...?”

The other man crossed his arms mimicking the Doctor's akimbo stance, tilted his head down and looked thoughtful. “We all had our theories about that. Needless to say, when Donna Noble turned up with her mind wiped and all her memories of traveling with the Doctor removed, more than one of us figured it was a two-way process just like the metacrisis. A few weeks ago, CCTV in London picked up an image of...one of you, standing alone outside a shop. Only a few seconds, but it seemed to confirm our suspicions.” 

“Really? Was it a tattoo parlour?”

Jack looked back to the Doctor, the dimple in his chin growing more pronounced as he grinned somewhat lecherously. “I think the one thing none of us suspected was that the three of you would be _together_.”

The Doctor resisted the urge to grow defensive. “What are you insinuating, Jack?” Was that a wink?

He changed the subject effortlessly. “I'm sorry, by the way. About Donna.”

The Doctor's eyes flickered back to his companion and his other self before he turned his body toward Jack and faced him fully. “Actually...that's sort-of the reason we're here.”

The other Doctor would never admit it, but it had been this Doctor's idea to come. A whispered conversation over Rose's sleeping body had somehow led to the subject, and the admission on both their parts that they'd enjoy visiting Jack. And Martha. And Mickey. What the Doctor had not told his original self, however, was his deeper motive for wanting to plunder the Torchwood archives of alien bits and bobs. Donna Noble.

Not that he didn't believe that the other Doctor did not miss her as terribly as he did: he knew, well, _assumed_ that he did. But the Doctor, this Doctor, more than missed her – he felt he needed her, now that he had made peace with the Time Lord half of his consciousness and body he needed to come to understand the human half. The part that so often made embarrassing words spill from his mouth, the part that made him smell and snore and age. The part that had taken his right heart which he still occasionally woke searching for, desperately clutching his chest, feeling he was dying. He had what he reckoned to probably be a ridiculous notion that he could _learn_ from Donna. Learn how not to be so afraid, how to be bold and brilliant like she had always been.

That, and he just missed his friend.

“Donna?” The Doctor nodded somberly, and Jack looked surprised. “There's nothing we can do. If you couldn't...I mean, _he_ couldn't, what makes you think...?”

“Like you said, Jack: you're Torchwood. Every alien artifact that's fallen to Earth, been confiscated by law enforcement, fallen into the wrong hands: it all ends up here.” He raised his left eyebrow, tilted up his chin in his favourite expression of bemused self-importance. “All you need is someone to show you how to use it.”

Jack regarded him silently for a moment, a mysterious smile on his face. “You're right,” he said finally. The Doctor was in mid-satisfied nod, when Jack spoke again. “Come work for us.”

He froze, tilted his head slightly. “Wh-what?”

“I'm asking you to come work for Torchwood. With us. Permanently.” Jack glanced over toward the group. “We lost two members of our team recently. Owen and Tosh. Hasn't been the same without them. _We_ haven't been the same.” He glanced down, looking almost embarrassed. “We need help, Doctor. We need the best, and your little team seems to have an extra Doctor they can spare.”

“Oi! I'm not an 'extra',” the Doctor said, trying not to look as flattered as he felt by the "best" comment, then shook himself out of it. “I sympathize, Jack. Really. But this whole saving-the-universe thing, it's a bit of a full time job I'm afraid.” He clapped the other man on the shoulder and began to walk away.

“Not your job though, is it Doctor?” The Doctor in blue froze, as Jack stepped up close behind him, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn't hear. “You're you, I get that. But so's he, and that box has got to be getting awfully crowded by now. I _know_ you, Doctor. Ask yourself: is your place on the TARDIS, where you're just another helping hand? Or could it be here, where you could make a difference, every day?” 

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak the one word that would always stop him: “Rose...”

“What better service could you do for her, for them, than to work here on Earth? I know you love her. I know you love _him_ , too. But this is Earth we're talking about Doctor – the planet's in turmoil after being moved across the galaxy and back. People are still struggling to understand what happened, and they need you.” Jack leaned over, his breath hot against the Doctor's ear. “ _You're_ the one who destroyed all the Daleks,” he hissed. “You could be a champion for humankind, you could teach us so much.” He leaned back, and his voice grew lighter. Sadder. “Or you could be just another Doctor on a ship that already has one.” Jack stepped past him and toward the staircase to the upper level. “Think about it.”

He watched the retreating shape of Jack's back as he walked away, his words echoing like a drumbeat in his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be the chapter you want to avoid, if graphic threeways aren't your thing...

“What?!”

The Doctor's voice had reached an unseemly high pitch as he repeated this phrase for at least the fourth time since they had left the Torchwood hub and headed back to the TARDIS for the night.

“Jack asked me to stay and work for Torchwood,” the other Doctor repeated, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

“What did he do that for?” The Doctor was grateful Rose was out of the room at the moment, both for her not hearing about Jack attempting to seduce the other Doctor into abandoning them, and for her missing his own emotional reaction to the news.

The Doctor in blue was reclined in the jumpseat, his trainers up on the console jiggling slightly, either from restlessness or nervousness, the Doctor was unable to tell. “I don't know,” he said after a pause. “He thinks I can help them.”

“Help _Torchwood_?!” the Doctor echoed incredulously. “Torchwood doesn't need help!”

“Apparently they lost a few people...”

“Toshiko and Owen, yes, I heard,” the Doctor said impatiently. The other Doctor glared at him.

“ _Any_ way, they're a bit short staffed and could use a resident genius.” He smiled broadly at the Doctor, who resisted the urge to go and knock him out of that chair.

“And what did you say?” He was being deliberately vague, the Doctor could tell, and there could only be one reason for that: he hadn't declined.

“Didn't say anything, yet,” the other Doctor admitted with a shrug.

“You're _considering_ it?” Another non-committal shrug was his only reply, and the Doctor fumed. “You do know that Jack is just doing this because he's...Jack?”

The other Doctor's eyes narrowed. “What's that supposed to mean?”

The Doctor sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “It _means_ ,” he said, drawing out the word, “that I'm surprised that the idea that Jack only offered you a position at Torchwood because he fancies you...us...never crossed your mind.”

“Oh please,” the other Doctor said, waving his hand is a gesture of dismissal. “Jack isn't that subtle.” His left eyebrow quirked up. “Are you jealous?”

“Of _who_?!” the Doctor squeaked indignantly.

“Who's jealous?” Rose asked, sauntering back into the room, munching on a slice from the plate of toast and jam she carried.

“He is,” the Doctor in blue replied. Rose gave a sticky smile.

“Of who?”

“Enough, both of you, enough! I am not jealous, I'm attempting to look out for your best interests since you seem incapable of doing so yourself without ending up imprisoned or...or... _tattooed_.”

“Oh, are you getting another tattoo?” Rose asked the other Doctor excitedly.

“ _NO_!” they answered in unison, their voices raised in irritation, both their heads whipping around to glare at her.

Rose's forehead wrinkled. “All right, tetchy, god!” She turned her back and she, and her toast, stormed out of the room.

The Doctor sighed. He regarded his twin in silence for a moment.

“Go on,” the other Doctor said, softly, staring at his still-gently jittering shoes.

“Why would you even consider it?” the Doctor said finally, hating the whinging tone of his voice. Another shrug from the Doctor in blue. “Aren't you...happy, here?”

“Of course I am,” the other man answered, a bit too quickly. “It's just...” His voice trailed off.

“Just...?” the Doctor prompted after a moment.

“Just – maybe I could be happy there, too,” the other Doctor said finally, the words spilling out in a rush. His eyes finally met the Doctor's. “You've got forever, Doctor. My time to experience everything life has to offer is...somewhat limited.” His lips had grown thin with these last bitter sentences.

The Doctor's hearts broke, just a little bit. “And you'd – you'd rather spend that time on Earth, not in the TARDIS?”

“I've had a millennium in the TARDIS.” He looked around the console room, fondness in his eyes. “I love the old girl, but maybe it's time for a change of scenery.”

“You'll go mad,” the Doctor said, his voice thick with emotion. “Trapped on Earth, alone – you'll lose your mind.”

The other Doctor gave what might have been a chuckle. “I think we both know it's a bit late for that,” he said cheekily. He stood and gave a long stretch, revealing a thin patch of bare stomach as he braced his hands on his hips and leaned back, and his shirt pulled up and came untucked from his trousers. “I'm going to find Rose,” he said.

“She's in her bedroom,” the Doctor said, feeling numbed by this whole conversation. The other Doctor walked slowly from the room, pausing by the entrance to the cavernous console room.

“You coming?” he asked.

He was barely through the door of Rose's bedroom before the Doctor in blue pounced on him. The other man's lips were warm against his own, and he brought his hands to the sides of the Doctor's face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into his mouth. The Doctor kissed him back even through the fugue of puzzled hurt that remained with him after the conversation in the console room, became aware as the other Doctor began to push his brown suit jacket off of his shoulders that Rose was reclined on the bed, already nude. Watching them. In spite of himself, he moaned softly against the other Doctor's lips.

The other Doctor's breathing had grown ragged, and he finally broke the kiss as the Doctor moved his fingers to the buttons of his shirt, reached up to grab one of the Doctor's hands and, with a sort of desperate sound in the back of his throat, moved it to his groin. He was already straining against the fabric of his trousers, and the Doctor felt himself harden in response, smiled as he moved his mouth to his double's neck. “You're in a hurry,” he hissed before nipping softly just below the other man's ear. “I think you quite enjoyed being Jack's centre of attention.” Hearing a muffled whimper from the bed, he looked to see Rose, delectably outlined in the shadows of the darkened room, her hand between her legs as she continued to watch the two of them. “What do you want, love?” he asked, raising his voice to indicate he was addressing Rose.

“I want you to suck his cock,” she instructed softly, her voice strained as the rhythm of her fingers sped up. The other Doctor groaned at her words, as the Doctor began to work the fastenings of his blue trousers.

“Do you really want to leave this behind?” he asked, quietly enough that Rose would not hear, just before dropping to his knees. He freed the other man's cock from the confines of his trousers and pants and took him in his mouth and deep into his throat, pulling back to flick his tongue against the head before swallowing him again, curling his fingers around the length of him to follow his lips with his fist. He sucked greedily, wanting to force the other Doctor to come quickly; it had become a sort of contest over the many months to see who could outlast whom, and the Doctor took great delight in compelling the other Doctor to lose. But as the other man started to get close, thrusting his hips to meet the bobbing of the Doctor's head, Rose called to them. He stood to his feet, kissing the other Doctor again briefly to let him taste the salt of his own skin, and then shed the rest of his clothes before stretching out next to Rose.

The smell of her was, as always, intoxicating. He explored every dip, every rounded curve of her body with his hands as he sucked at her neck, murmuring against her skin. “Rose. My Rose.” He felt the weight of the other Doctor shift onto the bed as he lay behind her – their hands met at her waist, then parted to each slide down, one in front and one behind, to where her own hand had been moments before. The Doctor guided her leg up and over his hip. She was hot and wet, her clitoris swollen and all-too-easy to roll under his fingers as the other Doctor thrust two digits deep inside of her.

“Want...you inside,” Rose panted after a few minutes of this. “Both of you.”

“Are you sure?” he heard the other Doctor ask gently, and she moaned her approval. The Doctor felt the other man's fingers withdraw from her, and there was a grating noise and then a soft _snick_ as the nightstand drawer was opened and closed softly. Reaching down, pulling her leg higher up over his own, the Doctor guided himself into the heat of her, crying out softly. Moments later he felt the other Doctor return, spooned against her back, heard him kissing her neck and shoulders and murmuring soft words of encouragement as he slowly worked his now-slick cock inside of her. The Doctor realized he could feel the gentle pressure of the other man's penis against his own from inside, and the sensation was both bizarre and highly erotic. Rose whimpered, and he bristled, ready to insist that they call this whole thing off, but he realized almost immediately that it was not from pain as she gasped an exhilarating string of profanity. Both fully sheathed inside of her, they lay for a moment, allowing her to adjust. When they did begin to move, it was a gentle, alternating rocking between them, and Rose grabbed at his shoulders as though she were hanging on for dear life.

“Is that okay?” he whispered. She nodded, her mouth open, her eyes squeezed shut. “Is it good?”

“God, yes.” She opened her eyes. “You?”

“ _Amazing_ ,” he bit out as the other Doctor's hand brushed against his haunch and their eyes met over her shoulder. The tiny loops and shapes of the Gallifreyan tattoo he had placed on his double's hip were just visible over the curve of Rose's body, seeming to ripple and change in the dim light with the movement of his controlled thrusts. The Doctor remembered the first time the other man had fucked him like he was now fucking her, and the memory of the sensation of it nearly caused him to lose it. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and tried to concentrate on holding on. Just...a bit...longer...

Rose came suddenly and violently between them, shouting her pleasure in his ear. It was more than he could stand and he followed her almost immediately, pulsing inside of her as his whole body tensed. The other Doctor lasted two more slow thrusts before finally crying out, his fingertips digging into the Doctor's thigh as he shook against Rose's back. When his shudders had ceased, he carefully slid out from her and flopped onto his back. Rose rolled away from the Doctor and crawled over the form of the other, kissing him soundly on the lips. The Doctor felt himself boil just a little with the usual envy of watching the two of them drift off in post-coital bliss, but it was something he had learned to tame in the time the three of them had been together. Pressing a kiss against Rose's collar-bone, he rested until they were both asleep, then rose and dressed silently.

The Doctor laced up his trainers and pulled on his long coat, anticipating that the chill in the Welsh evening would be all the worse for having a moment ago been deliciously warm in Rose's bed. 

Jack would still be awake, and he aimed to find out what the hell he was playing at.


	3. Chapter 3

“Well _that_ wasn't weird at all,” Mickey mumbled suddenly, hearkening back to the visitation earlier in the evening. “Hanging out with my ex-girlfriend, the love of her life and his clone, nope, nothin' strange about that.”

Martha gave him a pitying smile. “She seemed happy,” she said, the tone of her voice reassuring. She and Ianto had returned with vast quantities of Chinese about three quarters of an hour after the surprise guests had turned up at the hub, and greetings and introductions had been made over pan-fried noodles and ginger beef.

“Oh I'm sure she is!” Mickey answered. “She's got _two_ Doctors now, why shouldn't she be?” Martha couldn't seem to think of a response to that. “D'you think they...?” He shook his head. “Never mind. I don't even wanna know.”

“No, you don't,” Jack replied, walking up behind them. “And yes, they do,” he continued, with a grin. It wasn't a stretch to imagine – Jack remembered his own comments back on the Dalek Crucible when faced with two identical Doctors and a third in the guise of the freshly-metacrisised Donna. Still, he'd been surprised and almost...proud? when he'd realized earlier in the evening from their body language and the way the three of them never quite took their eyes off of each other that they were all almost certainly intimate. It made what he'd said to the half-human Doctor later on easier. And more painful.

“You seemed to be awfully cozy with the other one,” Gwen pointed out. Jack shrugged.

“I know what it's like to be the third wheel on the TARDIS,” he said.

He'd thought of asking the moment they'd all arrived, he just hadn't actually expected he would until the invitation was tumbling from his mouth. Jack knew he'd been manipulative in his choice of words...even cruel. But sometimes, cruelty was what you needed to snap yourself out of the seduction of traveling in the TARDIS, outside the boundaries of time and space, untouchable. For him, it had only taken his own painful immortality and a year of torture to wean him off of it. He saw something of himself in the newer Doctor: a man out of his time, not certain of his place, thrust into the dynamic of the TARDIS and feeling like he'd always been there, but still somehow an outsider. The idea of everything he could bring to Torchwood was staggering, and so he'd jumped, offered the job and then dropped a few bombshells on top of it.

And he didn't feel guilty, he told himself. Rose had her Doctor. Wasn't it fair that Jack should have his?

“Um, speaking of third wheels on the TARDIS,” Ianto interjected, pointing towards one of the monitors to where a lone figure in a long coat could be seen strolling, determined, toward the lift on the Plass. The figure came to rest standing on the for-all-intents invisible square of concrete, looked pointedly right into the lens of the completely hidden camera, and waited.

“How did he...?” Gwen started. Jack didn't answer, but reached over and flipped the lift controls, and moments later the Doctor descended into the hub.

“Couldn't stay away, eh Doc?” Jack asked with a cheeky smile, but the Doctor did not look amused. His face was stormy, his hair wild and disheveled.

“Doctor?” Martha asked gently, taking a step toward him. “Are you all right?” He moved suddenly, breezing past her and quickly trotting up the stairs toward the conference room.

“Captain, with me. _Now_ ,” he shouted back. Jack shot a quick glance toward Ianto and followed, closing the door behind him.

The Doctor stood at the end of the long table, his arms crossed. Waiting. Jack's attitude remained flippant. “I'm flattered, Doctor,” he said, walking slowly around the table, gesturing around the room, “but it's not very romantic, is it?”

“He's not staying,” the Doctor said.

“Is that what he's decided?” Jack quirked his head slightly, looking closely at the Doctor. “It isn't, or he'd have come himself.” He shook his head, making a _tsk tsk_ noise with his tongue. “I've seen some strange relationships, Doctor, but getting possessive and jealous over _yourself_...”

“I'm not jealous, why does everyone keep saying I'm jealous!” the Doctor cried, dropping his angry stance for a moment. Just a moment, and then it was back. “What are you doing, Jack?”

“Thinking of what's best for my team. And yours.” The Doctor raised one eyebrow.

“Oh and I'm sure you have no ulterior motives at all.”

Jack chuckled. “Don't flatter yourself. You worked for UNIT years ago, how is this any different?”

“I had no choice then,” the Doctor answered through clenched teeth.

“Doesn't seem like you're giving yourself much of a choice in the matter, now,” Jack continued. “Half-human Doctor, working for Torchwood, it makes perfect sense.”

“Well, you certainly seem to have convinced _him_ of that. Once a conman always a conman, is that right?” Now anger flashed in Jack's eyes as well.

“And you're accusing _me_ of ulterior motives? I would've thought you'd be all for anything to help put Earth back on the right track after your old buddy Davros damn near disintegrated it, but you just seem more concerned about losing your new toy.”

The Doctor sighed, raking his hand back through his hair. “You don't understand, Jack. Everything we've been through, the three of us...but we're _happy_ now.” He looked at the other man pleadingly.

“I know,” Jack said gently. “I can see that, with the three of you. I remember what it was like, to feel part of something like that.”

“This is different...”

“Why, because of the sex?” The Doctor's eyebrows shot up as his jaw dropped a bit. “Don't look so surprised, it's nothing that every one of us probably wouldn't do in the same situation. But it's not that different. You can't see it because you're...you. You don't understand how easy it is to fall in love with you, with this life. Even your clone or whatever isn't immune to it. And then...” Jack's voice trailed off.

“Then what?”

“Then you leave us behind.”

The Doctor exhaled sharply. “Is that what this is about? You, still nursing a grudge?”

“No, this is about me trying to save you from yourself.”

“This...this is _nothing_ like that. He's part Time Lord, he's all that's left - I would _never_ run away from him. He knows that.”

“Is that why he's so desperate to get his old companion back?”

A pause. “What?”

Jack's voice was patient. “Donna. He asked for our help in restoring Donna's memory. It's what we've been researching for the last couple of hours, since you left.” He nodded with his head down toward the rest of the Torchwood team, some of them typing furiously at PC terminals, some of them with their noses deep in thick catalogs.

The Doctor looked gobsmacked. “And...what have you found?” he asked after several moments.

Jack appeared to struggle with his response, as if weighing whether or not he should share this information with the Doctor.

“There might be a way,” he said, finally.

********

There was a row going on aboard the TARDIS – the Doctor knew even before he got within sight of her. Rose didn't use her inherited shouting prowess very often, but when she did, not even the multi-dimensional properties of his time machine could contain it. He had a pretty good guess what this argument was concerning, and could be fairly certain that her anger would turn upon him once he entered. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and opened the phone box doors.

“You're just not happy unless you're leaving me behind, are you?” Rose was yelling at his double. Her eyes were dry; this was anger that transcended sadness.

The other Doctor was standing, motionless, on the other side of the console. It occurred to the Doctor that he appeared to almost be cowering behind it – he knew how much his twin despised arguing with Rose. His arms were crossed, his eyes downcast and sad: he made no replies, just stood and took her rage.

They must have begun arguing in bed and just continued it throughout the ship, the Doctor thought. Rose was clutching a dressing gown closed across her chest, and the other Doctor was barefoot, in his blue trousers and shirtsleeves half-unbuttoned. Sympathetically, the Doctor wondered what careless phrase his double might have mumbled that had clued Rose in.

“And you!” She whirled on the Doctor who had just entered the room. “When were you going to tell me about this? After a few more kinky Time Lord threeways?”

The Doctor kept his voice calm. “I...we,” he corrected, looking to the other Doctor, who nodded to him to keep going, “didn't want to upset you.” He gave her the goofy sideways grin he knew she always loved. “Silly me, I was afraid you might take it badly.”

“Stop it,” she hissed, and his smile faded. “Stop being cute. First you try leaving us in Norway. Now he's ducking out to go work for Jack. Has this whole thing just been about you two trying to foist me off on each other?” Now the tears were forming; her voice was thick with them. “I thought you and me...the three of us, were... But I got it wrong again, didn't I?” She turned back to the other Doctor. “You were just biding your time till something better came along.”

“That's not true,” the Doctor in blue answered finally. He looked miserable, and the Doctor wondered if this might not be the final straw in making him stay. He knew his other self was powerless to resist anything Rose wanted. Seeing her cry must be one of the more painful experiences from his brief lifetime. “I love you, Rose. You know that.”

“Then how can you even think about leaving?” Her eyes were huge, brimming.

“Because of Donna. Isn't that right, Doctor?” The Doctor in brown had answered Rose, but he was looking at the other Doctor as he spoke.

Rose looked confused. “But Donna...you said she...you said it would kill her to come back!”

“It would,” he continued, walking slowly up the ramp toward her with his hands deep in his pockets. “Unless you had access to some pretty advanced alien technology. Say...the kind of alien technology one might find in a secret organization founded by Queen Victoria after she was attacked by a werewolf in 1879, perhaps?” This last string of words was spoken in one long breath, the way he was prone to do when he was trying to be intimidating, or distracting.

The other Doctor tilted his chin up a bit. “Is that a problem?”

“Nooooo, 'course not!” the Doctor said, drawing out the phrase. “Couldn't hurt to ask, right? There are no stupid questions, isn't that what they say? Although, there _are_ a lot of inquisitive idiots...”

Rose's tears had dried on her cheeks, and she now looked more curious than anything else. “Doctor, what is it? Why're you being all...” She fluttered her hands in front of her. “Gob-by,” she said finally, unable to think of a better word.

He gave what could only be described as a rakish smile. “Because I know something you don't know.” He was still addressing the other Doctor.

“And what's that?” Rose asked, as the Doctor in blue appeared to have been struck dumb, either by his double's behaviour or by recovering from being woken in the middle of the night after vigorous sex to have a violent argument barefoot on the cold metal TARDIS grating.

The Doctor completed his slow walk around the centre console until he was standing directly in front of the other Doctor. “That they've already found a way to restore Donna's memory without killing her. Completely harmless. Welllll, I _say_ 'completely'...”

“What is it?” the other Doctor finally spoke up.

“How do you feel,” the Doctor posited, “about a second metacrisis?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Right, so what's the plan, then?” Mickey asked. They were all seated down the long table that, only hours ago, the Doctor and Jack had argued around.

“Biological metacrisis,” Jack began theatrically. “Organic energy, in this case regenerative, drawn off into a compatible receptacle – sorry, Doctor,” he apologized at the last, glancing at the Doctor in blue who raised one eyebrow in response. “Basically,” he continued, “it'll be an encore presentation of last time except said receptacle is half human and therefore, presumably, compatible with the target.

“Target is one Donna Noble, currently operating as a temp in Chiswick,” Jack continued, going into captain-mode.

“Oi!” the Doctor in blue growled from the end of the table. “Don't call her a 'target'.”

“Right. First course of action is getting the subject back here. Doctor?”

The original Doctor stood from his position seated across from Rose and began to circle the table while speaking. “Once Donna's memory is triggered, we'll have no more than thirty minutes to get her back to the hub.”

“Excuse me.” Ianto raised his hand tentatively. “Sorry - what if she won't come? All this is sort of reliant upon her being a willing participant. What if her memory comes back and she decides she'd still rather stay there?”

“She won't,” the Doctor said, his voice low.

“No, he's right though Doctor,” Martha spoke up, moving her head from side-to-side in an attempt to address both of them. “What if she's upset at you for what...whichever of you, did? I think we should know the circumstances she left under before we agree to do this to this poor woman.”

The Doctor flinched, his mind coursing with memories of those last minutes with Donna Noble, the sheen of tears in her eyes as she'd begged, pleaded with him to let her stay even if it meant her life. It was only somewhat recently that he'd finally shared the awful details of Donna's departure with the other Doctor, and now he knew it had nearly driven the other man to abandon the TARDIS. Wellll, may yet have done...that bit was still quite unresolved. “No,” he answered simply, his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. “All you need to know,” he said quietly, “is that she didn't want to go.”

“They have a point, though,” Rose said. “Just that, until she remembers, she's going to think you're crazy when you try to explain this to her. She could run off or something and her memory could come back later.”

“She's not going to think _I'm_ crazy, and she's not going to run off,” the Doctor said cryptically, and the other Doctor's eyes narrowed, as if he expected he was about to be volunteered for the job. But instead, the Doctor in brown pinstripes dramatically spun to face Rose.

“Parallel world, Rose! One entirely created around Donna, and you _still_ managed to get through to her. If she remembers nothing else, she should remember that, that _link_ you share!”

“Me?” Rose asked, incredulous.

The Doctor leaned down next to her, brought his face close to hers. “Rose Tyler, you're kind. You're brilliant. All of time and space, I can't think of anyone else I'd immediately trust more than you.” He gave a saucy grin. “If my memory were gone, I'm quite certain I'd still remember you.” His voice had dropped suggestively and become that bedroom growl he usually saved for their more intimate moments, and Rose blushed at the sound of it. They stayed, gazing into each others' eyes for a moment, and then he abruptly stood back up and resumed his pacing.

“Right! Rose will talk to Donna, engage her, get her to remember just one detail and that should start a chain reaction which will bring everything flooding back.” His expression became slightly pained at the last, as he thought about the confusion and almost certain pain he was about to cause his good friend, albeit hopefully briefly. “Then back here, where you'll have everything ready for the manual cellular excitation.” He looked to Jack, who nodded. The other Doctor glanced fearfully toward Rose, but she appeared to have missed the significance of this last phrase. Probably for the best.

“There's just one more thing,” Gwen spoke up. “London, it's not exactly a hop, skip and a jump away. How are you going to get her back here in thirty minutes?”

The Doctor hissed in air through his teeth and blew it out in an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, there you have a point. If only I had some sort of... _vehicle_ , capable of traveling instantly through time and space...” He gave what he knew to be a blinding manic grin. “Oh wait! I have!” With that he glanced through the window down at the TARDIS, now parked on the ground floor of the Torchwood hub, being eyed warily by the resident prehistoric pet from her perch.

Most of the group stood simultaneously, and the Doctor moved suddenly, aiming to exit the room and get back to the TARDIS as quickly as possible, but his exit was blocked on one side by Rose, on the other by Martha. Both were standing in his way on purpose, and both wore matching serious expressions. He swallowed nervously, trying to imagine a more formidable team and coming up blank. “Um,” he said, brilliantly.

“Doctor,” Martha started, and the other Doctor's head perked up where he still sat, jotting out last-minute calculations in Gallifreyan.

“'Regenerative energy'?” Rose jumped in, and the Doctor winced and cursed himself for having allowed Jack to throw that bit in there. “'Cellular excitation'? Those are just big fancy words for offing yourself, aren't they? 'Cause where else would this energy come from unless you were dying?”

He sighed. “Rose, I am not going to, as you put it, 'off myself'. Everything will be fine, I promise. Martha here will see to that, won't you, Martha? She's an _amazing_ doctor!” He flashed a smile at Martha that felt only slightly strained, and she held her hands up in front of her.

“Oh no, you're not putting this on me! I think you're all crazy.” Martha's large, brown eyes were full of concern. “What if you can't stop it in time?” The other Doctor had stood and approached their group, and Martha addressed him over the Doctor's shoulder. “What if your body can't handle that energy? You're only half Time Lord now... _you_ could die, _Donna_ could die, and _you_ could turn into somebody else! And why? So that you can prove yourself wrong and find a way to get her her memory back when he couldn't?” The changing subject of her address made it nearly unclear even to the Doctors whom exactly she was referring to, and they glanced at each other uncomfortably, then away.

Martha's voice had raised slightly, but when she spoke again it was gentler. “I know you miss her. I know, if she could, she'd miss you, too. Both of you. But the three of you've got each other,” She gestured toward Rose, who was still silently fuming, with a sideways nod of her head. “Maybe it's time to just...let go.”

"Martha Jones," the other Doctor spoke up from behind the first, his voice soft, and a bit hurt. "I asked you once if you trusted me, and you said 'Of course'. I'm asking you now, again," cutting his eyes over to Rose, " _both_ of you: trust me." The Doctor twisted his head to give him a reproachful look. "Sorry. _Us_."

The corner of Martha's mouth twitched nearly imperceptibly. "Honestly," she said. "The pronoun situation is ridiculous. I don't know how the three of you keep it straight."

"Wellll," the Doctor said, putting a hand on her back and leading her out the door as Rose and the other Doctor followed close behind them. "The suits help."

********

The coffee shop was crowded even more than usual for a Tuesday morning, and Donna Noble cursed as stranger after stranger jostled her while she attempted to navigate her way from the counter without spilling her brimming beverage.

It was only her second week at a new assignment, and it looked like she was already going to make a habit of running a few minutes late, but there was no way she was going to face those busy phones without some caffeine inside of her. The steady paycheck she was now receiving ensured that she could splash out a bit on fancy coffee drinks instead of choking down the weak brew her mum seemed to enjoy. Her granddad made an exceptional pot, but Sylvia hardly let him near the coffee maker except in late evenings when he'd fill up his thermos and head out to gaze at the stars through his telescope. 

Though, he hardly did that anymore.

It was strange, but ever since that whole nonsense with the planets (which Donna was still convinced was some type of mass hallucination) her granddad had changed. She'd catch him sometimes, staring up at the night sky, but when she'd ask him if he wouldn't like to go up the hill the way they used to do he'd abruptly change the subject. It was almost like he was afraid what he might see there, but he wouldn't discuss it. The more she'd try to press the idea, the more uneasy he would seem to get, and Donna had finally learned to just accept it.

“Excuse me,” she growled as yet another person stepped directly in her path. But the petite blonde woman didn't shift, just stood her ground. “Oi, I'm talking to you, blondie!”

The woman's brow wrinkled and she looked slightly confused. “Oh, I'm sorry, I've never been in here before and I thought this was the line to order.”

Donna was continuing to try and move around her. “Yeah, well, now you know. _Excuse_ me.”

She gave a sad smile that was almost eerily familiar. “Donna Noble,” she said softly, and the hairs on the back of Donna's neck stood up.

“How the hell d'you know my name?”

“We've met before,” the woman continued, still blocking the way to the exit. She gestured toward a table that had just opened. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Sorry lady, but I'm running late.” Donna ducked to move around her and was nearly to the door when her mobile phone began beeping.

“It's your job. They've had to terminate your assignment,” the blonde woman spoke up from behind her. “But that's nothing to do with us. Things are hard all over.” Something about the way she laughed abruptly made Donna think of the phrase “ _state of flux_ ”.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her mobile, conscious that her cup of coffee was beginning to get uncomfortably hot in her left hand. Feeling like she was in a dream, she held the device to her ear and listened to the unsympathetic drone on the other end inform her of how sorry they were, but that she would not be required to return as the company had had to downsize and temps were the first ones being let go. They hung up and Donna continued to stand there with her phone to her ear, then suddenly whirled back on the mysterious woman.

“Did you do this?” she asked. “Did you get me fired?” Her brow furrowed in anger. “Who the hell d'you think you are?”

The blonde didn't flinch. “We don't have much time. It's dangerous, me bein' here. Any second you're going to...” She trailed off, and Donna wondered how that sentence was going to end. “You have to come with me.”

Donna tossed back her red hair as she flipped her mobile closed and pocketed it. “That may work on the men, missy, but it's not going to work on me.” And inexplicably, again, the girl smiled.

“You said that before. Don't you remember?”

And the strange thing was, the longer she stood there talking to this stranger, the more she did start to seem to remember. “You keep saying that...you said we've met?” Strange thoughts were beginning to form in Donna's head – unsettling thoughts accompanied by an overwhelming sense of deja vu. She'd always thought people who talked about experiencing that were nutters, but here she was, _positive_ she'd had a conversation like this with this very woman.

The girl walked forward slowly, almost as if she expected Donna to bolt. “Just...come outside with me, just for a minute, 'kay?” She placed her hand gently on Donna's arm and turned her toward the glass doors.

The morning air was fresh and cool, and Donna felt her head beginning to clear a bit. This was just ridiculous – any second now this woman was probably going to try and sell her something, that's what it was, some kind of strong-arm sales pitch. Yeah it was weird, her knowing that she was about to get the sack, but she'd seen weirder. Though...she couldn't quite remember what or where.

And that's when she saw him.

A tall, lanky man with broom-bristle hair, in a natty brown suit, leaning against the side of a blue, wooden police box. Passers-by seemed to step around both the man and the box without giving them a sideways glance, almost like they couldn't, _wouldn't_ see him, but Donna felt like she wasn't able to focus on anything else.

She knew him, of course. He'd been at her house that night, after the planet thing. Something-Smith he'd said, though she hadn't paid much attention as he was a bit skinny for her liking. But seeing him leaning against the box like that, she became acutely aware that she knew something else about him: he was a doctor. He'd told her that...hadn't he?

“Do you recognize him?” the blonde woman spoke quietly at her side, staring in the same direction, and Donna turned slowly to her, her mouth gaping open.

“The...the Doctor?” she asked, and almost immediately a sharp pain shot through her temples, like the worst migraine imaginable. Her eyes seemed to throb in their sockets, protesting the bright daylight, and her knees nearly buckled with the intensity of the ache. She cried out and stumbled, and the man, the _Doctor_ , moved forward lightning fast.

“It's started,” she heard him say.

“I'm sorry, I tried to tell her...”

“We have to get her to Torchwood. _Now_.”

Donna Noble opened her eyes for what felt like the first time in months, and when she did, there stood the Doctor, just like always. “Donna? Donna, you still with me?” he asked, clicking his fingers in front of her face.

“I...” She swallowed, then smiled. “I remember everything,” she said, and then promptly fell unconscious.


	5. Chapter 5

The TARDIS seemed to take forever to dematerialize after the Doctor in blue had rushed to the double doors to take Donna's feet from the other Doctor and help Rose lift her over to the jump seat. His other self practically flew around the console, brandishing their mallet and shouting things like “ _COME ON!_ ” and “ _HURRY UP!_ ” as Rose gently lay the other woman's head against the back of the chair, taking a seat next to her to keep her from falling over. Donna's eyes fluttered.

“Doctor?” she asked weakly, and he gave her his best reassuring smile.

“Hiya,” he said softly. 

Donna give him a small smile, sitting up slightly then wincing and leaning back again. “Blimey, that's a racket.” She held her hands to her temples. “Sounds like the strain on the engines of moving through space without accessing the Time Vortex.”

“You should stay still, we'll be there in a few minutes,” Rose said, touching her arm. Donna looked at her, her expression puzzled.

“You're both back,” she noted. “How'd that happen? Dimensional retroclosure, I remember.” Rose smiled at the Doctor.

“Lots has happened while you've been gone," she said. "We'll tell you all about it later, yeah? When you're feeling better.” She cast a nervous glance at the other Doctor.

“Go on then, what's happening 'later'? Where're we headed?”

“Torchwood,” the Doctor answered, and Donna's mouth dropped open a bit.

“You're taking me to see _Captain Jack_ looking like THIS? Oh I am so gonna bloody kill you.” She drew back her hand and swatted his arm. 

“Ouch!” He rubbed the area. “What'd you do that for?”

“What'dya think,” she replied in a cross voice, trailing off as the other Doctor made another one of his frantic rounds around the centre console, then stopped and turned to them with a flourish as the TARDIS ground to halt with the faint _ding_ of a bell.

“We're here,” he said, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “And you look lovely.”

“Don't think you're not getting a smack, too,” Donna replied, and the other Doctor's expression fell slightly.

“What, what'd _I_ do?” Rose and the blue-suited Doctor helped her into a standing position and attempted to lead her toward the door, but Donna planted her feet.

“Wait,” she instructed, and they did so. She slowly looked around the expansive interior – walked on her own to the edge of the console and touched it. “This is real,” she said softly, and the Doctor recognized it as a statement rather than a question. “I'm not dreaming.”

“No, you're not,” the other Doctor replied, bouncing on his soles a bit. “Which is why we _really_ need to...”

“Shhhh,” the Doctor hissed at him, watching his double's mouth snap shut. He crossed to where Donna stood.

“Have you dreamed of it? The TARDIS?”

She shook her head, biting at her bottom lip. “Not really. Just this...this _feeling_ I'd get sometimes. Like I should be somewhere else. Somewhere I'd be _doing_ something. Like I was...special.” She gave a long, shuddering sigh, then turned back to the small group. “All right, you three – standing there with your mouths open, just look at you! Whatever you've got planned I'm sure it's complicated and unpleasant, so come on: let's get to it!” 

They stepped outside into the Torchwood hub, and Donna was only silent a moment, enough that the Doctor could tell she was taken aback. “Torchwood?” she said. “More like Dr. Frankenstein's!”

********

The comparison had been apt, the Doctor thought, taking in the three vertical boards adorned with wires and electrodes – Zantid polynecrotic cellular dividers. The Zantidror had used them as their own method of prolonging life, imbuing old cells with energy until they split and the old cells died off. The polarity of the half-human Doctor's divider had been reversed to absorb the regenerative energy of his own, and would be neurologically linked with Donna's platform. Torchwood had had these for years and never used them as no one had ever fancied the best-case scenario of simultaneous mitosis of every single cell in the body, but now they'd be put to perfect use. No problem at all.

Would he be able to control it, though?

Martha's words from earlier came back to haunt him – what if he couldn't stop it? Would he regenerate, then, strapped against this board in full view of everyone? If he changed, and the other Doctor decided to stay with Torchwood...would Rose stay with him, with the man who still wore that face she held so dear? What would become of him then, if he lost them both?

It wasn't too late, he supposed. He could still take Donna's memories again – the resuscitation had been so brief, he could manipulate those same neurons ever so sightly, put them back to sleep, as it were. Take her back to the coffee shop and pretend the whole thing had never happened.

But he remembered watching Donna in the TARDIS, the look on her face as she had reassured herself that she wasn't asleep, that she was where she was supposed to be for the first time in such a long time, and he knew he couldn't do it to her again.

He felt his twin standing beside him – a tickle at the back of his mind, an anticipated whisper of fabric similar to that of his own suit against his arm. They watched in silence for a moment as Jack began the arduous process of attaching several small cups in a line across Donna's forehead. “Doctor,” he said, his voice rising slightly in inquiry on the last syllable. The other man turned his head slightly in response. “You know...”

“It'll be fine,” the other Doctor interrupted. “Everything's going to go fine.”

To hell with it. He turned to his double, facing him completely. “If I regenerate, here, today, I want you to know that...” He swallowed. “That I've loved...sharing this face, this life with you. Wouldn't have missed it for the world.” He was surprised and a bit embarrassed at the emotion in his voice, but no one else seemed to be listening in the flurry of preparation and activity going on around them. “If that happens...”

“Oh shut up,” the other Doctor said, and the next thing the Doctor knew they were kissing. He held the other Doctor's face between his hands, tracing every line, every crease with his fingers. A thousand shared memories flooded his mind – he wasn't quite sure if they came from him or from the man he was kissing, but it didn't seem to matter as they were the same. Regenerating in front of Rose. Turkey dinner and a new suit. Cat nuns, Cybermen and the coronation. Reinette and Luke Rattigan. Astrid and Alonzo. Davros and _Dårlig ulv stranden_. All that they'd shared, as one, and then two different men. Would it be strange, kissing these lips with new ones that were nothing alike? Would he ever find out, if he did change, or would this be the last time? Terrified at the prospect of losing all he'd gained while wearing the guise of this face, the Doctor tasted himself one final time, let his tongue flick between those warm half-human lips, then pulled away.

He became slowly aware as he gazed into the half-lidded eyes of the other Doctor that the commotion around them had ceased, and all eyes in the hub were now focused on them.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Donna spoke finally. “ _This_ is what's been going on while I've been gone?” Then she smiled coyly at Jack. “You can kiss me, if you want to.”

********

Jack flipped a switch, and Rose watched, nervous, waiting for a crackle or pop or some sign that the things which her Doctors and Donna were now standing against, wired up like electroshock patients, were working. But there was nothing – no hum, no whiff of burning metal, no Jacob's Ladder of rising currents of electricity to complete the mad scientist's laboratory feeling of it all – just silence.

“Jack,” she started to say, “I think...”

Then the Doctor in brown pinstripes suddenly cried out and strained forward against his bonds. In the otherwise quiet, cavernous space of the hub, it was quite loud, and sounded as if he were in excruciating pain. Rose took a step toward him.

“Rose, stop!” Jack was watching alien-looking numbers scroll by, but paused to look up and warn her away, harshly. “If you touch any of them you'll disrupt the reaction. You could kill them all.”

Rose froze to the spot, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides, wanting so badly to go and touch the Doctor, to soothe him as she always did when he was in pain. His lean body was still being wracked with spasms, but her second Doctor and Donna still seemed completely unaffected physically, though their faces showed signs of panic and distress at the sound of the Doctor's suffering.

Then his skin began to glow.

Rose stifled a sob against the back of her hand, turned to Jack. “You have to stop it,” she shouted, and only then did she realize that _now_ there was noise, a dull roaring sound which was growing increasingly loud with every second.

“Can't,” he shouted back. The Doctors had given him a crash course in Zantid mathematics, enough so that he could interpret the numbers scrolling across the screen in front of him, but Rose knew more than anything he was relying on his own eyes – he pointed to the three figures. “Look! It's working!”

The other Doctor's skin had begun to take on the same ethereal, golden glow of the first's, only much less pronounced. Rose's first Doctor threw his head back against the platform and screamed – a bloodcurdling, bonechilling scream. A dying scream. Tears coursed down Rose's cheeks, and then suddenly, at the end of the line, Donna gasped. Her eyes flew open, and Rose could see even from several steps away that that same golden light was now shining out of Donna. The energy had finally reached her, channelled through the second Doctor and the tiny, microscopic needle both of them shared, inserted in the backs of their necks near the base of the skull, connecting them. The entire dark room was now illuminated by the ghostly light of regeneration...and it didn't seem to be stopping.

Jack was frantically twisting dials, flipping switches. “Dammit!” He looked up at Rose, and her heart stopped at the expression of fear she saw there. “Something's going wrong – he told me to shut it down once it reached Donna, but it's...it's like it's running itself!”

Rose looked with horror at her first Doctor, who was now convulsing. His eyes flew open as well, barely visible in the phosphorescent flush of his face. “Rose...” she heard him grind out. “I can't...”

And now the other Doctor suddenly surged forward, similar to the way his double had done. But there was no regenerative energy pouring out of this Doctor – it was all pouring _in_ , and his body had no way of coping with it.

She'd be damned if she was going to sit there and watch the two men she loved die. Rose ran over to them, reached out and started jerking wires out of the backs of the wretched machines, destroying the connection between the three of them. Smoke rose, and the roaring noise reached a fevered crescendo, then began to, mercifully, fade. Almost immediately, the luminosity around Donna and the second Doctor began to dim, then disappeared entirely. But Rose blanched when she saw that it had not diminished around her Time Lord – that deceptively beautiful golden aura continued to grow in strength, even as his body shuddered with the pain of it.

“It's...too late...” he hissed. His eyes pleaded with Rose. “Can't stop it...I'm sorry.”

The other Doctor, now free from his straps and connectors, stood next to Rose, hysterically ruffling his hair, his eyes huge. Donna was over by Jack, typing in Zantidror at an alarmingly fast rate – somewhere around one hundred words-per-minute, Rose guessed. Her heart was heavy; they'd succeeded, but at what a cost? She felt her other Doctor's arms go around her, and he pulled her against his chest where she wept for the thought of how their lives were about to change, and everything they were about to lose.

 

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	6. Chapter 6

Jack watched helplessly as his quite literally oldest friend began to regenerate - the outcome of their little experiment gone awry. This was different than getting shot by a Dalek laser before you'd even had a chance to kiss the love of your life hello; this could have been prevented. But he'd failed, he hadn't been able to stop it, and now even Donna, still typing frantically to his side, with her half- _half_ -Time Lord consciousness - even she wouldn't be able to reverse the process this far along.

He saw the other Doctor holding Rose as she sobbed against him. Suddenly, the man shouted and pulled away from her before dashing over to where Jack and Donna stood. “ _OUT OF THE WAY!_ ” he shrieked, and dove in and began typing. The dividers roared back into life again, and Jack thought it might have been his imagination that the golden sheen behind the Doctor's skin seemed to be pulsating, on some kind of cycle: brighter, then dimmer, then a little less bright, then a little more dim. Finally it was extinguished altogether, and the Doctor collapsed with a groan against the one strap Rose had not managed to undo, his arm above him, holding all his weight. Rose immediately went to him and tried to support him, and in a flash Jack and the other Doctor were at her side, helping.

They got him disconnected, Jack aware the entire time of the double-beat of the Doctor's hearts against his arm where it was was wrapped around the other man's ribcage – he was _alive_. He was the _same_. What had happened?

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” the Doctor was repeating now, still bonelessly drooped against the three of them for support, but sounding perfectly lucid.

“All the same, we're gonna have Martha check you out,” Jack said as they began to walk him towards the lab.

“Wait,” the Doctor insisted, and they paused. He turned to the other Doctor on his left side. “What did you do?” he asked, his weak voice piqued with curiosity.

“Oh that,” the other man shrugged. “Tricked your divider into mimicking mine and turned the molecular infuser back on itself so the regenerative energy was just feeding the machine which then had nothing left to pump out. Infinite feedback loop,” he finished with a smile, popping the 'P'.

The Doctor's grin lit up the room. “That's _brilliant_!” He removed his other arm from Jack's shoulders and threw both arms around his double, squeezing him tight and slapping him on the back. “Ha!” Jack heard one of them shout. Rose stood to the side, her huge smile mirroring that of both the Doctors, until a pinstriped arm suddenly shot out and grabbed her, pulling her into the hug. For several moments it was just the three of them, laughing and clutching at each other, and Jack's last thought before he and Donna went to join them in their celebration was that he couldn't break this up, and he'd been a fool to try. He thought back to all his time with the Doctor – the ways it had changed him, the oppourtunities it had afforded him, how it had brought him here to Torchwood, to Cardiff, to Ianto and Gwen. How _lucky_ he was. It would have to be enough, Jack thought, and he smiled as he let himself be enfolded by his friends.

********

The Doctor slipped his blue suit jacket off and casually threw it back over one shoulder as he watched Martha check the other Doctor's vital signs. The other man continued to grumble about being fine, just barely tolerating all of the attention and finally losing his temper when she attempted to take his temperature. “Honestly, Martha – what good is _that_ going to do?” he snapped at her, and she rolled her eyes as she turned away to replace her thermometer and leave the room.

“He's just fine,” she said to the Doctor as she passed him. “Should probably get some rest, and he may have a touch of regeneration sickness considering how far along in the process his body got, but he'll be good as new in a day or so.”

“Thank you, Martha,” he said warmly. “For everything.”

She paused, and regarded him for a moment. “I know you're...him,” she said finally, lowering her voice so the other Doctor would not hear. “But you've got a good head on your shoulders. He needs that, sometimes – someone to step back and talk some sense into him. You can do that, you and Rose. He'll listen to you, 'cause he loves both of you and 'cause, well, because you _are_ him.” She smiled, and the Doctor was moved by how much she still cared for him, worried about him; she'd walked the Earth alone for a whole year and it had hardened her, but Martha's kind soul would always be looking out for that daft alien and, by extension, himself and the woman they loved. “Take care of him,” she said, touching the arm of his jacket, and then left.

The other Doctor swung his legs out and propelled himself into a dramatic standing position. “Right,” he said, over-enthusiastic and cheerful. “Onward and upward! Never slowing down, things to go, places to...do.” He grinned, ridiculously.

“Doctor.” The other man's smile died on his lips, and he nodded slowly.

“Yeah.” He approached the Doctor, extended one brown pinstripe-clad arm, palm out, and the Doctor took it. “Best of luck, then. Watch out for Jack, and at least _try_ to play hard to get, hmm?” He thrust his chin out, attempting to look undaunted. “Keep this lot in line. I know, if anyone can..." His voice trailed off as his confident demeanour faltered, and he looked down. “I don't know when we'll make it back this way again. I mean, obviously we will, but it could be days for us and years for you, so you...” The other Doctor looked closely at the Doctor's face, his lips that were now twitching with the effort not to smile. “You...” His eyebrows came together. “You're not staying?”

“I don't think I'd better. I mean, someone's got to hang around and make sure you don't regenerate yourself, haven't they?”

The other Doctor's face broke into a smile and he gave a childish laugh, and looked as though he were about to step forward and embrace him. Then they both sort of coughed, looking down and muttering, remembering the rather impromptu display of affection in the hub before the procedure. “Yes, well. You're probably right. I've grown rather attached to this face...God only knows what the next one could look like!” He gave a little shudder, before stilling and looking into his double's face. The crinkles around the edges of his eyes smoothed as he spoke softly and earnestly: “Thank you.”

For everything, the Doctor knew he meant. For saving him. For bringing Donna back. For deciding to come with them. For just _being_. He nodded, and then the moment passed, and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Space Dunce.”

********

High above the Torchwood hub which lay buried below the streets of Cardiff, the Doctor crossed the brown arms of his suit jacket in front of him and leaned back against a railing, craning his neck up slightly to behold a beautiful clear, blue sky. He narrowed his eyes against the sun, dug in his jacket pocket for a moment and produced a pair of sunglasses. At his side, Donna snorted as he put them on. 

“A little young for you, don't you think?” she asked, indicating the eyewear.

“They're prescription!” He gave her a thousand-watt smile. “Ocu-cogni...”

“Ocu-cognizant telesensitive amplifold lenses, yes I know,” she finished, tossing back her hair. He gave an exaggerated pout which, he knew, brought out his dimples.

“Show off.” He turned to face her. “C'mere, then. Let me check you out.” Placing his fingers on either side of her forehead, he searched her mind for any trace of the former metacritical scarring, and found none. “Good as new,” he proclaimed, removing his hands. “Welllll, _better_ than new. You're a whole new Donna Noble!”

“No,” she said, smiling in that slightly pitying way she used to save just for him. “You're wrong – I'm the Donna Noble I was always meant to be. Doctor-Donna...just mostly Donna.” She added a wink.

They stared out over Cardiff Bay, watching the afternoon sunlight spark off the water, a liquid prism which stretched into the horizon. The Doctor finally sighed. “Come on, then. Time to go.” He took a few steps back toward the TARDIS, but stopped when he realized that she wasn't following him. “Donna?”

“I'm staying, Doctor.” Her voice was calm, her face serene.

“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked, his voice rising to an undignified note. “Don't you wanna come?”

She smiled and looked back out over the bay. “Nah. I mean, yeah sure I want to...but it's different now, isn't it.” He swallowed down an embarrassing lump as Donna put her back to the water and turned toward the TARDIS, where the other Doctor and Rose were embracing Jack, Martha and Mickey and saying goodbye to Ianto and Gwen. There was a satisfied sadness behind her eyes.

Then she turned back to him. “Or maybe now I've got memories of my time with you back, I can't stand the thought that traveling with you again could mean they could get taken away again. It's a paradox.” Donna sighed heavily. “It was all right, thinking that I could get killed. All those times with you – the giant wasps and the fat monsters and the fish-heads...”

“The Hath.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I _know_. But I thought, if that was the worst that could happen, at least I'd die a hero, out in _space_. I'd be remembered. I'd be important.” Only the fact that the Doctor knew her so well made it recognizable how close to tears she was. “I thought that was the worst that could happen, traveling with you. But I was wrong.” Donna smiled. “I can't lose all that again. No, I think I'll stay here. I'd rather _choose_ to stay behind, if that makes any sense.”

The Doctor nodded, glumly. “It does.” He cleared this throat. “Donna...about that...”

“If you say something like you're sorry and make me cry all my make-up off, I'm gonna kill you,” she interrupted, and he laughed. “Besides, there's plenty for me to do here!” Her expression took on a faraway look. “I think me and Granddad have some stargazing to do.”

“Ah, yes. How is Wilf?” The Doctor felt slightly ashamed that he'd not thought to ask. He really was rubbish without Rose and his other self reminding him how to act like a decent person.

“Good. And I think he'll be even better, now. I think he's missed me.” Donna walked over to him and gave him a big hug; he lifted her off the ground a bit, and she gave a little ' _Oof_ ' noise. “Take care of yourself. Take care of _them_.” And then, true to her word, she smacked him across the arm after pulling away. “And come visit once in awhile, you big dummy!”

********

Goodbyes never got any easier, the Doctor thought as he watched his double approaching with Donna. He could tell immediately from the set of her shoulders, the apologetic look on her face, that she was about to explain to him that she would be staying. She wouldn't be coming with them, on the TARDIS. Everything they had done for her, to recover her memory safely and ensure that she could return to the life she'd begged the other him not to take away from her, and now she'd decided of her own volition to just stay. The Doctor's heart broke a little bit – was it because of him?

The other Doctor wore that you-poor-bastard expression he usually saved for when the Doctor had cocked something up and earned Rose's ire. As they arrived, the other Doctor deftly navigated the rest of the group a few feet away from him and Donna, leaving them alone to talk.

“You're not coming.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She looked thoughtful. “Oh, lots of reasons. You don't need a mate anymore. I told you to find someone,” she said, “and you have.” She pulled a face. “Yeah it's a bit...weird. And Martian,” she added, teasing. “But, I don't know – somehow it seems _right_ , you three. Like it's finally...complete.” She turned her face to his. “I can't compete with that. I wouldn't want to.” She gave a little sigh, then perked up and smacked him gently on the shoulder. Her hand stayed, touching his arm. “But look at you! Look at what you have! This happy little...” She wiggled her fingers in front of her face. “Family. Or whatever you all call it. I don't really want to know, honestly.” Her eyes searched his. “All I want to know is: _are you happy_?”

The Doctor barely had to think. “Yes.” He felt a grin begin to creep across his features, that sort of loopy, manic grin. “Yeah, I am.”

Donna patted his arm one more time, then let her hand slip away. “Then what'dya need me for?” Her voice was deceptively cheerful, but the smile she wore did not reach her eyes. The Doctor felt distinctly as though he were being cast out of the nest by the one who'd always taken care of him. And somehow, it was all right.

“Right, you two!” The other Doctor's voice shook them out of the moment. “Time we were off.” He gave Donna another great hug. “Donna Noble, you know the drill – just be magnificent.”

“I _know_ I will,” she laughed into his ear before he released her. The other Doctor touched two fingers to his forehead in his customary cheeky salute to Jack, waved to the others, and stepped inside the TARDIS, and Rose followed him.

The Doctor waved once more to his friends, specifically to Jack and Donna, who stood forward from the rest of the group. “We'll see you soon,” he called out, before stepping through the phone box doors. Just before they shut behind him, he thought he heard Jack's voice as he spoke to Donna: _“So. You're looking for a job?”_ And then Cardiff was behind them, and the gears of the TARDIS ground merrily as she spun them into the Time Vortex.

********

A low groan of pleasure, the tug of long fingers curling painfully in his hair, and the half-human Doctor moaned encouragement as the other Doctor came in his mouth with a yelp. He swallowed the cool saltiness, sucking it from his cock until it softened between his lips and he released him with a kiss to the other man's hip, identical to his own save for the absence of a Gallifreyan tattoo. “I could never get tired of watching that,” Rose, already sated, said dreamily off to their side.

The other Doctor had bashfully presented him with his own sonic screwdriver upon their return to the TARDIS, fashioned from spare bits of technology at Torchwood, and the Doctor had immediately been inspired to test setting 384 – unhooking very small hooks – on Rose's undergarments, and had made love to her as the other Doctor watched with eyes as black and bottomless as that pit on Krop Tor.

His conversation with Donna from earlier was still raw, but the edge was off it now, the weight of it more tolerable. He'd thought he could learn something about being human from Donna, and in the precious few moments they'd had together, he felt he had: he'd learned that, for him at least, being on his TARDIS, with Rose and his original self, his _family_ as Donna had put it, was what made him happy. The thought that he might actually never be alone again brought the Doctor a kind of peace he'd never felt before. He could only hope that Donna found that same peace, with her decision to stay behind.

And if she didn't, he thought with a smile, she'd find him again. She always did.

And now it was the three of them, the way it should be. The Doctor's one heart swelled with love for his two very naked companions as he collapsed between them.

Rose picked up his sonic screwdriver from the floor next to their bed, and studied it, idly. “It's different than the Doctor's,” she noted, turning it slowly in her hands. It was: slightly more settings, isomorphic controls, a slap-dash appearance to it which betrayed the fact that it had been constructed out of spare parts. But still, undeniably, sonic.

“Wellll,” the other Doctor said, turning on his side and addressing the Doctor. “You were never just another Doctor, were you?”


End file.
